From the Beginning

After a couple long years of health problems, we had mostly accepted that it was unlikely I would be able to carry another child, so the news that we would have another of our own was breathtaking! We had struggled through a few years of sickness, doubt, and marital strife, and felt that this brand new life was a symbol of the healing and restoration that God had lavished upon us. We put our adoption plans on hold and eagerly began preparing to welcome this new little blessing into our lives.

When we learned we were expecting a girl, we chose the name Ellianna, which means “God has answered,” and Grace for her middle name, which means “God’s unconditional love and unmerited favor.”

After giving birth to my youngest daugher at only 30 weeks, we wanted to make sure this pregnancy went smoothly and was carried to term. My doctors did not seem overly concerned though, encouraging us that everything looked fine.

Things were uneventful until March 2nd, 11 weeks before my due date. I went into premature labor hard and fast, and by the time we arrived at the nearest hospital, Ellianna and I were both losing lots of blood from a placental abruption. It was only minutes before they whisked me off for an emergency c-section, and Ellianna’s tiny little face was held up for me to see. Frightening as it was, she was almost the same gestation as our other daughter had been, and we had every confidence in God and the NICU staff to bring her through safely, just like her big sister.

This NICU stay was different though. There were many hiccups along the way. Trouble with breathing, trouble with feeding, trouble with bleeding in her tiny little head. When the brain bleeds were discovered just a few days after birth, there was not a lot of concern. They would keep monitoring her head size and perform frequent ultrasounds to watch for it to resolve on its own.

Then… it wasn’t resolving and the pressures in her head kept going up. The pediatric neurosurgeon was called, just to have a look. He didn’t seem worried at all. He said nothing needed to be done. Call him back if anything changed.

Then… it got worse instead of better. The neurosurgeon came back. He said yes, there was a problem, but it would probably get better on its own, “statistics showed.” I will never forget when he looked at us and said, “chances are less than a coin toss that she will ever even need surgery for this.”

A coin toss. And then we were being transferred to another hospital so that she could have the surgery she needed to place a shunt to relieve the pressure in her brain. Brain surgery. My tiny, tiny little peanut, and we were handing her over to have her fluffy brown hair shaved and her fragile little head cut into to save her life. That day I thought that was the hardest I would ever cry.

It was temporary. A temporary shunt to relieve the pressure and let her brain recover. Her surgeon encouraged us that many children improve on their own after this and never have to have a permanent VP shunt. We were hopeful. We worried about a lifetime of surgeries and possible complications, but we hoped that was not for us.

Ellianna fought. She pulled out her own feeding tube and decided she would eat all on her own, like a big girl. She gained weight, she turned pink, she was weaned off of her medications and didn’t require any more blood transfusions. She showed signs of cerebral palsy, but she faithfully did her physical therapy every day, and she showed us she was ready to join the rest of the family at home.

Two days after Easter, we brought our baby girl home to begin the rest of her life. There was so much joy! Every room in our house filled with the scent of new life, the sound of hope, and the light of courage and faith. This little tiny person was a very tangible reminder of the healing our whole family had received. We were captivated by her.